


Family but Three Inches To The Left

by ToDefineIsToLimit



Category: Good Omens (TV)
Genre: Angst, Found Family, Genderfluid Crowley (Good Omens), Hurt/Comfort, Nonbinary Beelzebub (Good Omens), One Shot, Other, Queerplatonic Relationships, Trans Warlock Dowling, Transphobia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-20
Updated: 2020-02-20
Packaged: 2021-02-28 06:55:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,782
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22809754
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ToDefineIsToLimit/pseuds/ToDefineIsToLimit
Summary: After the Apocalypse Crowley and Aziraphale expect for it to just be them one their one side with only each other but soon they find themselves sharing their lives with the Antichrist, Not-The-Antichrist, a Witch-Finder, a Witch, Another Demon, Another Angel, and one Particularly Spirited RoombaAbandoned work.
Relationships: Aziraphale & Crowley (Good Omens), Aziraphale & Warlock Dowling, Beelzebub & Crowley (Good Omens), Crowley & Warlock Dowling
Comments: 6
Kudos: 53





	Family but Three Inches To The Left

“Angel, get in the Bentley we’re leaving,” Crowley commanded quite suddenly one afternoon about six or seven months after Armageddon't.

“What? What are you talking about?” Aziraphale huffed shutting his book. He had just settled down after spending all morning shooing humans out of his shop.

“We’re leaving. Get in the car. Oh and we ought to bring that trunk with us,” Crowley strode toward the trunk with purpose and started tugging on it trying to pull it toward the door.

Aziraphale laid a hand on his shoulder to still his frantic movements, “ _Crowley_ , will you slow down and tell me what's happening? Is this about that call you got a few minutes ago?” Crowley had taken the call in the other room so Aziraphale hadn’t heard the content of it but clearly, something about it had worked the demon up into a panic.

Crowley stopped and looked at Aziraphale. He was wearing his sunglasses but Aziraphale could tell from the way his eyebrows were drawn that he was on the war path, “They hurt Warlock.”

Aziraphale froze, “Who’s they?”

“The Dowling'sss those bassstards.”

“What did they do?” Aziraphale asked slowly, trying to keep his composure for Crowley.

“Tossed Warlock out on the street didn’t they?” Crowley said pulling away, the rage and misery plain in his voice, “That’ssss why we need this, we’re going to have to hide the bodies and it’ll be easier with a container big enough for the both of them.”

“Crowley please explain what happened, is warlock safe?”

“No, they're not safe! They’re sobbing and crying and they called me because they couldn’t think of anyone else but the two of us to call and they didn’t have your number. They’re on the street, well they're in the front garden right now but they will be on the street! And they don’t know how to survive out there!”

Aziraphale picked up on the pronoun switch immediately. Crowley never messed up pronouns no matter how frequently they changed, he was always incredibly careful about it so the switch was noticeable.

“Is Warlock going by they/them now?”

“Yes! And that's the bloody problem! Those bastards kicked our kid out because they’re not fucking cissss! That's extreme at any age but Warlock? They're eleven for somebody's sake!”

Aziraphale bent down and picked up the trunk, “Get in the car.”

)))°(((

"Nanny!" Warlock barreled toward the car as it pulled to a stop and threw themself into Crowley's arms before pulling back, "You look different."

"Yes dear, I'm a man now so that would do it."

"Wait you're?!" Warlock broke into a baffled grin.

Crowley peered over the top of his sunglasses, "Yes, but right now we're talking about you."

Aziraphale was pulling the trunk out of the car.

"Angel we probably shouldn't actually-"

"Crowley I am not killing anyone I am merely retrieving Warlock's belongings."

"Brother Francis?!" Warlock barreled around the car and embraced Aziraphale with just as much enthusiasm, "Wait nanny did you just call him angel?! Oh hey! Brother Francis, you fixed your teeth! That's good you look better now! Not er- that appearance matters..." They trailed off clearly remembering all the times Aziraphale had scolded them for judging a book by its cover.

Aziraphale ruffled their hair and said, "Why don't we go see what we can get for you to take with you and then you can come with me and Nanny and we can explain some things…"

"I don't wanna see them." 

Aziraphale squinted at the youth and said, "Well… I understand why but… we could really use your help gathering your things. So... what if we let you say as many curse words to them as you like?"

Warlock broke into a mischievous grin, "As many as I like?" 

"Certainly."

"Angel…" Crowley said his tone warning. Clearly, he knew that Warlock had quite an extensive vocabulary in this area but Aziraphale brushed off the concern with a wave of his hand.

"And you won't let them like… hurt me or anything right?" They asked uncertainly.

"Never, " Crowley said with the same certainty he said things like 'our side' and 'Freddie Mercury'. 

"Okay then… let's do it!" And warlock stomped up the path back to the door.

)))°(((

Even Crowley had underestimated Warlock's inventiveness when it came to the word 'fuck'. Aziraphale stood beside the eleven-year-old with wide eyes, apparently speechless.

The best part of it was that Warlock was actually making some valid points in their ranting. Such as, "how can you be so fucking immature you make Spongebob Fucking Squarepants look wise!" And "is it just cuz I was fucking born with a dick? Well you know what fine, I don't want it then!"

The Dowling's sat in rapt silence. It may have helped that Crowley had employed a small demonic miracle to temporarily disable the vocal cords of the Dowling's so all they could do was mouth things.

"Alright, kid why don’t we go get your things?” Crowley laid a hand on his shoulder after ten minutes of nonstop ranting.

“Okay,” They said with determination in their voice. The silence without their cursing was heavy and tense.

“I’ll stand here and keep the Dowling's company dears, here Crowley you can take the trunk, it has wheels now.” 

Crowley rolled his eyes at the superfluous miracle but pulled the trunk along beside him. As he left the room he snapped his fingers releasing the Dowling's to speak.

“Hold on where do you think you're going?” Mr. Dowling called after them. Crowley kept shepherding Warlock down the hall certain that Aziraphale would handle them.

“Alright dear, what do you want?” Crowley said gesturing to Warlock’s room. 

Warlock stood there silently for a moment and Crowley knew that silence, he knew the only time Warlock was silent was when they didn’t want anyone to know they were crying.

“I want-” They said angrily, “To go back in time and not tell them.”

Crowley's brow furrowed, “Warlock come here.” Warlock did and looked up at him teary-eyed.

“Why _did_ you tell them?”

“Because I’m not a boy and I didn’t want my dad to keep treating me like one. It was different without you here. You always let me wear what I wanted and play what I wanted and they mostly stayed out of it but now they’re making me go on hunting trips with the boys and my dad threw out my skirts saying they 'weren’t right'. And I just wanted them to _get it_.”

“So basically you did it because you didn't want to live like that?”

Warlock shrugged scrubbing at the tears, “I guess.”

“Then you did exactly the right thing. If they couldn’t handle that then they don’t deserve you."

"I don't care, I deserve to keep my home," Warlock said, throwing themself on the bed face down. 

"I didn't deserve to be thrown out, " They said angrily.

~~~~~

"I didn't deserve to be thrown out, " The smell of antiseptic filled the damp room mingling with the scent of burnt feathers. Crowley arched her back and hissed in pain as the bandage lightly touched her wings. She wasn't used to them being so sensitive, but she supposed burns do that.

They had all **Fallen** a few days before (if days really meant anything to occult beings, no one really knew if they did yet). They were all still recovering emotionally and physically.

They already knew none of them would heal spiritually, their true forms were merely the charred remains of their old selves.

"None of us did, " Beelzebub murmured from behind her, "hold still."

"I miss Her."

Beelzebub paused in their cleaning, "..... Me too."

Crowley took a deep breath, "Beelz… do you remember what your name was?"

"No, can't even remember yourzz. Think the only one who got to remember was Lucifer, " They hadn't really gotten a handle on the buzzing noise yet.

"Then... who's Gabriel?"

They froze, " _What?_ "

She started babbling an explanation, "Sorry it's just you keep saying the name Gabriel when you sleep and-"

"Asking too many questions izzz what got you into this mess. Do you really think you should keep it up, Crawley?" They asked ripping another bandage off the roll but still placing it gently when they touched Crowley.

"Sorry, " Crowley whispered in response. They sat in silence after that.

~~~~~

Crowley settled on the edge of the bed and pet Warlock's head, "You're right, you don't deserve this, which is why we're going to give you a new home where you can be you and these bastards will leave you be."

Warlock turned their head, eyebrows still drawn, showing an amount of anger that shouldn't be possible on such a small face, "With you and Brother Francis?"

"Yes. Is that alright?"

Warlock nodded. Then they sat up back to the cold determination they had before. The scrubbed the tears off their cheeks and started picking up every toy and book the could find and tossing it in the trunk. 

Crowley went for the closet, producing armfuls of clothes for them. The last two things they grabbed were their favorite stuffed animal (a black dog with red eyes which Crowley had given them) and their flute in its case. They placed both gently on top of everything else.

"Ready?" Crowley asked.

"Yeah, " Warlock said, closing the trunk. 

Crowley reached for the handle, but Warlock stopped him, "Don't embarrass yourself, Nanny, we can ask Brother Francis to do it. It was hard enough for you to pull when it was empty."

Crowley was offended.

"Fine... but only because I'm lazy." 

***

In no time at all they had left the house and wedged the trunk miraculously back into the car, even though it had barely fit before they had an entire pre-teen back there with it.

As they pulled away (with the Mr.Dowling glaring from the front porch) Warlock stared out the window and Aziraphale noticed the tears building in their eyes again.

Aziraphale spoke quietly, "It's okay to be sad. Even if they weren't what you thought they were at first, it was still your home for a long time. It's alright to miss it."

Warlock looked at him with wide eyes then nodded. Aziraphale shot Crowley a look pleading for him to do _something_. He was always better at consoling them than Aziraphale was.

"Here, " Crowley opened the glove box and pulled out one of the miniature gaming systems they liked so much, and passed it to them, "It's a bit of a drive, you might get bored."

Warlock took it and nestled down quietly between the door and the trunk playing their little plumbers vs. evil mushrooms game. They didn't talk much for most of the ride.


End file.
